The Strange Groom's Cursed Bride-Chapter 82: Who is he?

Alice tried not to enjoy it. The food. The lavish, undeniably exquisite food.

She told herself over and over again that she shouldn’t. That it was absurd. Excessive. Unnecessary. That this was Hades’s money, not hers. That she was a guest. An intruder. A placeholder. That she had no right to taste and say mmm even in her head, let alone let her eyes flutter in pure, unadulterated pleasure.

And yet...

Every bite was exquisite. The shrimp practically melted on her tongue, bursts of briny sweetness. The scallops were buttery soft with a faint kick of something citrusy, perfectly seared. The glaze on the chicken was smoky, sweet, and so rich it made her eyes flutter shut for half a second. She tried not to show it. She really did. Her poker face was, admittedly, a work in progress.

Meanwhile, Suzy was in heaven, clearly making up for lost time.

"I can’t believe how good this is," she moaned, delicately chewing through a snail, a tiny shudder of delight running through her. "This has to be top five of my life. Maybe top three. I’m so glad I saw you today. It’s been forever since I had a proper meal like this."

Alice, caught between a wave of guilt for enjoying such opulence and a flicker of genuine curiosity, glanced up. "Why’s that?"

Suzy rolled her eyes and gestured vaguely with her fork, dismissing the question as obvious. "Why else? Healthy eating. Calorie control. Clean greens and seed toast. My mother would murder me if she saw this." She poked a particularly succulent shrimp on Alice’s plate. "She practically force-feeds us kale smoothies."

Alice gave a small, confused laugh. "Isn’t that good for you?"

"Oh, technically," Suzy said with a theatrical sigh. "But it’s depressing. I don’t like any of it. Just makes me want to eat my bed pillow at night." She shuddered.

Alice chuckled, a genuine, unforced sound. Then she asked more softly, a hint of something deeper in her tone, "Do you ever... get fed up with it all?"

Suzy paused, her fork hovering over a scallop. The playful gleam in her eyes faded into something quieter, more vulnerable. She put her fork down gently on the edge of her plate. "I don’t know."

Alice waited, sensing a shift in the air, a rare glimpse beneath Suzy’s bubbly exterior.

Suzy’s gaze drifted toward the window, toward the distant glimmering city skyline. Her voice was thoughtful now, stripped bare of its usual cheer. "My family is good. They really are. But... what else?" There was a quiet ache in the question.

There was a beat of silence, broken only by the soft jazz and the distant clink of cutlery.

"My brother is the artist. The golden one. My parents work. They have things. Roles. Purpose. Me? Nothing." She gave a sad little laugh, a faint, self-deprecating sound, as if trying to deflect the sting of her own words. "I raised it once. Said I wanted to pursue law fully. Actually go deep into it. Maybe litigate. I have the degree, don’t I? Father said no. Said I should use that time to work on myself instead. Become... wifeable." Her lips twisted in a bitter parody of a smile. "The Matriarch agreed with him. And that’s just... final."

Alice winced, a genuine, empathetic wince. The words landed like tiny darts, resonating with a familiar feeling of being boxed in, defined by others.

Suzy caught it and smiled again, this time with effort, but it was a more genuine, raw smile. "But yeah. At least I’m lucky, right? I saw this documentary once about how people live in the North. I couldn’t imagine living like that. Being born into that kind of life. It’s awful, I tell you. We are lucky."

Alice stilled. Her spine stiffened imperceptibly. Her breath caught in her throat. The casual dismissal of an entire region, a whole way of life, her way of life, felt like a physical blow.

But it was the truth.

A quiet "yeah" left her lips, barely audible.

Her appetite withered instantly. She looked down at her plate, and for the first time, the glistening shrimp looked alien. Pointless. A shell of indulgence. The rich, intoxicating aroma now felt cloying, suffocating.

The reality of Aurora’s privileged existence, compared to the harshness she had always known, settled heavily in her chest.

She looked at Suzy, her gaze holding a new, fierce certainty. "You’re perfect the way you are. Even if you’re a B minus. Or even F. To the estate. Honestly, you seem like the only decent lady there." The words were raw, unfiltered, a genuine surge of protective warmth towards this naive, kind-hearted woman.

Suzy stared at her, her brows knitting slowly, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. Then her eyes softened, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. "You’ve changed, you know."

Alice blinked. Her hand froze mid-reach for her mocktail. The air around them seemed to hum with an unspoken tension.

"What?"

Suzy leaned closer now, her voice low, almost hesitant, as if sharing a secret. "You’re... different. Not in a bad way. But in a surprising way." She studied Alice’s face intently.

Alice gave a soft, almost brittle laugh, trying to brush it off, to deflect the unexpected intimacy. "It’s just one of those things. People change."

Suzy shook her head slowly, a quiet conviction in her movement. "No. I mean... you. Aurora."

Alice felt her heart lurch at the name. The way Suzy said it, not as a disguise, but as if she saw her, Alice, distinct from Aurora. It was unsettling.

Suzy went on, thoughtful. "How do I put this... Before, you were always—sad. That’s what I thought. You always looked sad. Not quiet. Not shy. Just... empty." Her voice was laced with a genuine concern.

Alice’s brows furrowed. The words felt like a punch to the gut, a cold, hard truth about the life she had unknowingly stepped into. Sad? Empty? Was that how Aurora had truly lived, beneath the polished surface?

"Your eyes were like that. Soulless. Like you weren’t really there. And I never got it. I always wondered. Why did you live like that when you have all of this light in you?" Suzy’s voice was a soft lament.

Alice’s heart pounded now, each word feeling more and more like a blade finding a new place to cut, dissecting a life she hadn’t known was so profoundly unhappy. She had always thought Aurora was doing well, living a glamorous, effortless life while herself struggled for every scrap.

But the more she heard from Hardy, Suzy, people who weren’t even exactly close with her, it chipped away at that perceived perfection.

The contrast between Aurora’s supposed "perfect" life and this description was jarring, painful.

"I don’t know why," Suzy continued softly, oblivious to the turmoil she was stirring.

"But I always felt drawn to you. Like I wanted to figure you out. Even the first time I tried to talk to you, you brushed me off like I didn’t exist."

Alice had no words. Her mouth parted, closed, opened again. Nothing.

She finally let out a shaky breath, a sound of profound internal conflict. "Maybe I just... I don’t know."

Shit.

She couldn’t lie to Suzy. But she couldn’t tell her either. She was caught in the suffocating middle of her own stolen identity.

Suzy didn’t press. She tilted her head instead, her tone sharpening slightly, a hint of protective anger entering her voice. "Why did you let them walk all over you, though?"

Alice flinched, the abrupt question cutting through her internal monologue. "What?"

"You let people trample on you. Almost everyone did. Bullied you. Tossed drinks on you. Even snatched your spot in school. You think we didn’t notice? You just stood there. But knowing you know, you look like you could fight them if you wanted. Like if you even moved your pinky finger, you’d burn someone alive. But you never did. Why?" Suzy’s eyes burned with a fierce, quiet frustration.

Alice stared at her in stunned silence. She hadn’t known this. Had no idea Aurora had lived this way. Maybe she had an idea. But she had thought it was just usual hate for rich pretty girls who also happened to be smart.

Bullied? Trampled on? Why? Her mind reeled. Aurora, with all her advantages, had been a target? This was utterly incompatible with the image Priscilla had painted.

Why had Aurora, someone with beauty, wealth, presence, allowed herself to be treated like that? The thought was sickening.

What kind of scars had she left behind for Alice to inherit? Scars of passivity? Of vulnerability?

Suzy’s voice dipped again, tinged with a new layer of concern. "Also... what about that dude?"

Alice blinked, confusion sparking. "What dude?"

Suzy looked at her like she was joking, a slight frown replacing her earlier intensity. "That guy. You were dating him, weren’t you?"

What the hell? Which guy?

"W-Which of them?" Alice asked, trying to keep it neutral.

"That guy from that night. At the school dinner. The one who grabbed your arm and tried to pull you away. I remember. And he wasn’t even a student, that I also remember. He was rough with you. I tried to ask you about it but couldn’t. But I always felt guilty and wondered if I should have stepped up."

Alice’s mind blanked. A cold dread seeped into her bones. freeωebnovēl.c૦m

What?

Suzy gave her a cautious look, her earlier intensity returning. "You really don’t remember him?"

There it was again. The suspicious look.

Alice could not even play in character this time. She was curious.

No one told her about any man in Aurora’s life.

"Can you... describe him?"

Suzy’s brow furrowed. She looked like she didn’t understand why Alice would ask her to describe someone she should clearly know.

"I didn’t get a good look. He was tall. Not crazy tall, but taller than you. Wore a brown suit. Pale skin. He had this air—like he owned you or something. The way he yanked your wrist." Suzy shuddered slightly. "You two disappeared eventually. But whatever that was didn’t look good."

Alice’s mouth went dry. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage.

She didn’t know this. At all.

Another missing piece.

Another secret.

Another man.

Who was he? And more importantly... was he still out there?

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